I want to talk about a place. I wish I could say it was a super VIP, exclusive place. It’s not. Not even a tiny bit. In fact, without knowing the vast majority of you personally, I can say with near-certainty that you’ve all probably been there. That’s right. Though none of our lives look exactly the same, anyone who’s been blessed with the absurdly exhausting (and wonderful) opportunity to raise tiny humans has likely visited this spot. It’s a universal destination. It’s nestled just a few miles down Fatigue Freeway, through the Tantrum Tunnel and across Breaking Point Bridge.
It’s called Delirium Island. And for anyone who’s wondering, I’m careening towards it faster than a toddler can say “MINE!”
My husband is traveling the entire month for work. Three quarters of my family (read: the kids and I) are battling winter colds. My 8-month old is getting slammed with an onslaught of new teeth. My 2-year old is potty training. He’s also talking a LOT (and by that, I mean asking #allofthequestions). I’m juggling a job of my own, along with a very sincere effort not to botch this solo parenting gig. Big ups to all you single parents out there. You are my heroes.
I’m packing the diaper bag. And I’m unpacking the diaper bag. I’m loading the car. And I’m unloading the car. I’m wrestling my children into clean outfits. And, five minutes later, I’m wrestling them right back out of dirty outfits. I’m ‘cooking’ breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And, you guessed it: I’m cleaning up breakfast, lunch, and dinner (half-eaten, at best).
I’m chugging the H out of my coffee.
And the real kicker: I’m unabashedly counting down the hours until my upcoming MRI scan — not because I’m anxious to get the results, but because it means I’ll have 45 minutes where I’m REQUIRED to be nothing but still, quiet, and unreachable.
Delirium Island, here I come.
Yeeeeah. I’m about one diaper blowout away from checking into my bungalow. And, although it’s free-of-charge (it only costs a few gallons of blood, sweat, and tears), it’s not exactly my idea of a dream destination. Not yours either?
How, then, might we re-route our lives back to a place of sanity before it’s too late?
It’s not like we can just walk away from our ongoing parenting responsibilities. To be honest, we can’t really walk away from most of the responsibilities that are running us ragged each day. Assuming a complete parenting escape is simply not a near-term option (although totes worth doing from time-to-time), how can we dial down the day-to-day delirium in a few small, but powerful, ways? What would it look like to infuse peaceful moments into the existing framework of our unavoidable craziness?
From my nutty house to yours, here are a few ideas I plan to try asap…
- Waking up 15 minutes earlier to *actually* drink a cup of coffee before the kids are up.
- Shamelessly deploying the iPad / TV for at least 30 minutes a day, so I can just. sit. down. Notice I did not say “so I can {insert house chore here}.”
- Getting my heart rate up on a daily basis. Even if this just means bringing my rugrats along for a brisk walk with a friend. Endorphins are life.
- Laughing at (er… with) my kids. Like, actually allowing myself a brief moment to crack up at the fact that my toddler just told his poop to “have fun at gymnastics” as he flushed it down the toilet. Laughter is also life.
- Booking a sitter on a random weeknight to take a breather from the infamous dinner / bath / bed routine (especially if a certain spouse has been traveling a lot… like, um, mine right now).
- Consuming at least one piece of adult-oriented content a day. And by adult, I do not mean x-rated. I mean taking 5-minutes to scan the news, listen to a podcast, watch a funny video or read a fave blog.
- Inviting a fellow mamacita to spend the day kid-wrangling together. Moments that easily dissolve into madness when experienced alone can quickly morph into belly-laughs when experienced alongside a friend. Long live the buddy system!
Now, I don’t claim these ideas are ground-breaking. And I definitely don’t claim they’ll replace the rejuvenating effect of *actually* stepping away from parenting for an extended period of time (be it a day, night, weekend or longer).
But I do hope they’ll provide some bite-sized doses of balance amidst the daily grind. And, if leveraged regularly, and with intention, they just might help me lose my Platinum member status at the Delirium Island resort.
Join me, friends. To sanity and beyond!
